Guns, Wands, and Bananas
by Julia Caesaris
Summary: Two things can go wrong with Apparation: you can splinch yourself, or you can miss your destination. On the escape from Grimmauld Place, Hermione does the latter, rather than the former, and the trio ends up inside the TARDIS after it crash lands in Wales. The Doctor is surprised.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is completely written, I just need to edit parts of it. It comes out around 10,000 words, and is episode-length. It takes place, for Harry, after the raid on the Ministry in what should have been 7th year, when Hermione tries to Apparate them away from Grimmauld Place. For the Doctor, this is in the second series, after _The Idiot's Lantern_ but before _Army of Ghosts_. **

**Sonic Screwdriver setting 42 - NOT MINE. The Doctor isn't, as much as I would like him to be, and neither are any of the other characters in here.**

* * *

"Right, so where're we off to now?" The Doctor grinned at her as if trying to forget the events of the past few days.

Rose shrugged. "I – I dunno."

The Doctor scoffed. "You must have somewhere – _anywhere _– that you've always, _always_ wanted to go to." He twisted his lips. "Queen Victoria's coronation, that was a nice one, we could go see that, or – or the Roman conquest of Britain, or V-E day, that was wonderful, seeing all those people jumping about having a great big party, or – or, I don't know what, why don't you think of something!"

Rose blinked at him. "Ah – I wanted to go to Princess Diana's funeral when I was a kid; Mum wouldn't take us because we didn't have the money, but I watched it on the telly."

"Excellent," the Doctor shouted. "So – what's that – ah, June 6th, 1997, innit? Central London, not too hard to hit." He began dancing around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers. "Off we go!"

* * *

Harry saw Yaxley's head turn, saw an inkling of the truth dawn on that brutish face.

"Come on!" Harry shouted at Hermione; he seized her hand and they jumped into the fireplace together as Yaxley's curse sailed over Harry's head. They spun for a few seconds before shooting up out of a toilet into a cubicle. Harry flung open the door; Ron was standing there beside the sinks, still wrestling with Mrs Cattermole.

"Reg, I don't understand –"

"Let go, I'm not your husband, you've got to go home!"

There was a noise in the cubicle behind them; Harry looked around; Yaxley had just appeared.

"LET'S GO!" Harry yelled. He seized Hermione by the hand and Ron by the arm and turned on the spot.

Darkness engulfed them, along with the sensation of compressing bands, but something was wrong. … Hermione's hand seemed to be sliding out of his grip. …

He wondered whether he was going to suffocate; he could not breathe or see and the only solid things in the world were Ron's arm and Hermione's fingers, which were slowly slipping away. …

And then he saw the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, with its serpent door knocker, but before he could draw breath, there was a scream and a flash of purple light; Hermione's hand was suddenly vicelike upon his and everything went dark again.

* * *

_~ ...Doctor Who Credits Roll, Accompanied by Cool Theme Music... ~_


	2. Chapter 1

**Sonic Screwdriver Setting 42: Still not mine, as much as I would like David Tennant.**

* * *

The TARDIS _whooped_ uneasily, hitting the ground with a _thunk_ that usually preceded the announcement of some broken part.

Rose swallowed, popping her ears automatically. She released her death grip on the nearest bit of alien machinery – whoever had designed the interior of the TARDIS had apparently been seven feet tall and three inches wide. "That sounded… not good."

The Doctor shrugged, throwing on his trench coat. "She should work," he said, sounding nonchalant. "Besides, we're in London! All _sorts_ of repair shops in London." He grinned widely at her – the one that meant he was wildly BS-ing and hadn't a clue what was going on.

Grinning, Rose shook her head. "If you say so."

A loud _crack_ split the air. Rose spun towards the instrumentation. "What was that?" She would hate it if something _else_ broke – for all the Doctor's apparent nonchalance, they really had no way to fix any major problems.

"Them," the Doctor said dryly. "That's new."

Rose raised her eyebrows. "What's new?"

"I believe this is the first time that anyone has appeared _into_ the TARDIS. They certainly have left her against their will" he and Rose shared a glance, "and the TARDIS herself can disappear and reappear, and we've had more than a few experiences of people appearing _near _her, but this is the first time anyone has actually broken into her."

Rose sighed, smiling sardonically. "We just can't get a break, can we?"

The Doctor grinned, a real one this time, not a cover for something else. "Could be worse – could be Daleks!"

This, at least, was manifestly true. The three new inhabitants of the TARDIS were human – or mostly so. Certainly, as they began pulling themselves, moaning, upright, they appeared fully human, with no strange protrusions or missing limbs. They were, however, all wearing long solid-coloured robes.

"I think something went wrong, Hermione," one of them, a ginger boy, moaned.

The sole girl tucked bushy brown hair behind her ears. "At least we lost Yaxley."

"Yeah," the black-haired boy agreed, "but we don't know where we are!"

The Doctor grabbed Rose's shoulder and pointed at the red-head. "Why couldn't I have looked like that?" he whispered in an agonized tone.

Rose laughed. "Dunno. Better luck next time, I guess."

"Who are you?" the black-haired boy demanded, shoving his glasses up his nose. His companions flanked him, pulling straightened sticks out of their robes.

The Doctor smiled brightly. "I'm the Doctor. Ah, would anyone like a cuppa?" It was, perhaps, typically British that no one saw anything odd with being offered a cup of tea after arriving in an alien spaceship.

Nodding, the red-haired boy said, "Yeah, sure. But Doctor who?"

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair, glaring at Rose.

"Always," Rose giggled, "that's always the next question they ask."

Ignoring the question – and the commentary – the Doctor directed his attention to the black-haired boy. "What day is it?"

The boy blinked. "September 2nd, 1997. And – hang on a minute – you look familiar." The boy frowned. "No! No, no, no! You're dead! I watched you die! Or, not die, but you're soulless! You shouldn't be able to do this!"

The Doctor frowned. "I don't _think_ I regenerated here," he whispered to Rose, "but time gets all… confused. I could have, but then he'd think that the one before me had died – unless this body dies here…" He trailed off. "That's disturbing. Why would I come back, to before now? It doesn't make any sense."

"Harry?" the girl asked. "Who is he? Is – is he a Death Eater?" This started out in an anguished half-yell, but rapidly turned into a harsh whisper.

The boy shook his head, pulling out a stick of his own. "It's Barty Crouch Junior. Looks just like him, only… Only more sane." He paused, shaking his head. "But none of this makes any sense!"

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair again. "No, it doesn't. I've _never_ gone by Barty Crouch in my life – why would I? Awful name, I mean, honestly! Who would name their child Barty – short for Bartemius, I guess, but really, that's worse." He paused, thinking. "On the other hand, we're only four days off!" the Doctor yelled, grinning maniacally. His hair stood erratically on end. "We can wait four days! Not bad for doing it half asleep, eh?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "I don't think we've ever spent _four_ days _anywhere_. Not willingly, at least. Honestly, have you ever spent more than a week in one place?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, thinking, and brushing, perhaps inevitably, his hair the wrong way. "Maybe? Once? When I was young?"

"My point."

He shrugged. "There's got to be something going on, right?" The off-handed way he said this told Rose that he was terrified of being _anywhere_ for four days straight.

"Er… Hello? Sir? Where are we?" It was the girl, this time, and she looked somewhere beyond terrified.

The Doctor blinked bemusedly. "That's a good question. Let's have a look, then." Opening the door slightly, he stuck his head out. "Ah – well, it's not London."

Rose ran over. "Let me have a look." The Doctor was right – London had never contained the wide hills, scattered rocks, and sheep. Or the mountain. "Wales, I think."

"Snowdonia," the girl pronounced, with an odd glance at the Doctor.

The Doctor shrugged. "So, what's that – four days and two-hundred odd miles? We'll have something to do, at least." Closing the door, he turned around to face the three newcomers. "So who are you lot?"

"Ah…" The black-haired boy beckoned the girl back to him. "I- I'm Vernon Dursley."

The Doctor raised one eyebrow. "Are you then? Which is why your friend over there calls you Harry. And – ah, more to the point – we're in Wales, of all ghastly places, and not in Cardiff, which I find rather nice, and its 1997, or so you say, but given those two things, I don't think those robes are in fashion."

"And what's with the sticks?" Rose threw in, curious.

The trio looked bemusedly at each other. "Er… Aren't you wizards?" the red-head finally asked.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "That's a new one," he muttered to Rose. "Ah, yeah. Yeah, we are."

Rose tried belatedly to look wizard-like, whatever that was.

The trio exchanged glances again. "But you don't know who I am?" the black haired boy said slowly.

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Ah – no. Not a clue."

"Um…" the boy with glasses got out, swallowing hard, "but you are wizards, right? With wands and magic and things?"

It was Rose and the Doctor's turn to glance at each other. "Unless we somehow managed to pick up a group of _really _ determined LARPers," Rose said slowly, "I think we missed a dimension as well."

"Well," the Doctor said. "Four days, two hundred miles, and a dimension. Could be worse, could be worse."

"The TARDIS isn't meant to go between universes," Rose reminded him.

The Doctor shrugged. "She's not _seriously_ broken. I can do basic repairs while you go watch that funeral of yours and then we can leave." He had that look on his face again – this one said that he was terrified and worried and nervous, but if Rose wanted to do something, then he would move heaven and earth to make it happen.

"Can someone explain what's going on?" the girl demanded.

Holding out one hand, the Doctor said, "If one of you can oblige me for just a minute, I think I can figure out what went wrong." He was trying to smile nicely, Rose could tell, but something about his face just made everything look demented.

Again the exchange of glances. Finally the black-haired boy stepped forward. "I will. And – and, I lied. M' name's not Vernon. I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm the Doctor." He and Rose grinned at each other, remembering when they had met. "I just need to touch your head for a moment and then…" The boy – Harry – was backing away, looking nervous. "Oh, bugger it," the Doctor swore, and leaped at Harry, pressing his fingers to the boy's head.

They fell to the floor with a loud _thump_, only narrowly missing the central bank of instruments. The girl shrieked and ran forward. Rose grabbed her arm. "No! Wait! He knows what he's doing." The girl was strong, but Rose had been travelling with the Doctor. It only took an extended foot, and the girl fell to the floor as well, tucking and rolling. The other boy didn't move, just stood there, trying to decide whether to help the girl or Harry.

Laying on top of Harry, the Doctor looked up, grinning. "Got it! Oh, that makes _so_ much sense. Why didn't – Oh. There's someone else in here." The grin fell from his face.

"Doctor?" Rose jerked the girl back, crouching beside the pair on the ground. "What's happened? Where are we?"

Standing up, the Doctor held out a hand for Harry. "You've had a bit of a rough life. You were right, Rose – we hopped dimensions again. But," the grin reappeared, "I've been to this one before. This world's so close to ours, it's not even really a rift. Just going in a direction the TARDIS was never meant to. It'll be easy to get back. And," he clapped his hands together, grinning wider than ever, "I think introductions are in order, don't you?"

"At this rate, we're never going to get anywhere," Rose muttered. "I'm Rose Tyler," she said in a normal voice.

The Doctor grinned. "And this is Ron – or Ronald – Bilius Weasley – that's a truly horrific name, by the way, _Bilius_," he said, pointing at the red-head, "and you are Hermione Jean Granger – which is slightly better, although a type of trousers," this directed at the girl, "and that is Harry James Potter – _finally_ a normal middle name – who's going to save the world in a couple months."

Rose blinked. "Don't we do that every week or so?"

"_Aw_, not quite that often," the Doctor drawled. "Every other week?"

"Depends on how you're counting," Rose said.

Hermione frowned. "Are you always this off-topic?"

The Doctor and Rose grinned simultaneously. "This is a pretty nice conversation, actually," the Doctor said. "And aren't we on topic?"

"Not really," Rose said, "but we've got four days."

Ron frowned. "You're both daft."

The Doctor grinned. "Ain't it great? Nah, but I know why the TARDIS came _here_. _He's_ got to save the world – _this _world," he corrected, pointing to Harry, "but there's something keeping him from doing it, and it's from _our_ world."

"What?" Rose asked.

"Dunno," he said, grinning, "but we're gonna find out."

* * *

"Look, Rose," the Doctor said, pulling open a panel and sticking his head inside, "last incarnation, er… No. The time before that, before you, obviously, I was here. TARDIS got a bit wacky again, was really just here for a couple hours, enough time for a cuppa, then jumped home again. Met this fellow, nice guy really, name of Harry Potter, gave me a cuppa tea. That's him over there." He pointed over to the trio, who were huddled in a clump by the door. "Where _did_ we put the tea kettle?" He jerked his head up. "_Ow!_ Bloody hell!"

Rose pulled open the next panel, shuffling through assorted junk. "I _thought_ you put it under here. And what do you mean, you've already met Harry?"

"Well, it's not there. What about this panel?" He pointed vaguely to the right.

"No, remember, that's where we hid that one time my mum got in, remember?"

"Got it!" The Doctor popped up, grinning, a tea kettle in his hand. "And it's already boiling!"

"How's that work?" Rose asked. "And answer the first question, please."

The Doctor frowned at the tea kettle. "I dunno. And we don't have any cups, do we?"

Rose shrugged. "Not last time I checked. Hang on, why _do_ we have a tea kettle and no tea _cups_?"

"Good question," the Doctor said. "And, I had supper with Harry Potter, except it was 2016, Earth time, not 1997. But he didn't recognize me, he didn't know I was _the_ Doctor. So we can't tell them _anything_, understand?"

"And don't wander off," Rose muttered.

He grinned. "That's right. Right, so recap of the war: 'Bout, oh, I dunno, sixteen years ago, this big evil dude with an unpronounceable name –"

"By _your_ standards?" Rose questioned. "Must be horrid."

"It's French," the Doctor explained, sighing. "Anyway, he wanted to take over the world, partly by exterminating anyone who didn't fit his standards of blood purity."

"Sounds like a Dalek," Rose muttered.

The Doctor grinned. "It's a _very_ popular theme. Right, and Harry there's parents were on the list. There's also some junk with a prophecy, and a bunch of things that only matter in this world and we don't care about anyway. So this big bad takes out Harry's parents, tries to take out Harry, and it doesn't work."

"Pretty crap shot then, isn't he?"

"Well, that's where this gets odd – ah, odder, because he _did_ hit Harry, and for some reason, it – the spell, I'll explain that later – rebounded and killed the big bad. Well… Mostly."

Rose snickered. "Mostly dead is slightly alive. With all dead, well, with all dead there's usually only one thing you can do."

The Doctor beamed at her. "Go through his clothes and look for loose change." He pulled out a coffee mug. "This'll work. How many we need? Three?"

"Five," Rose sighed.

"That's right. Five. So, a couple years ago, the big bad comes _all_ the way back to life. The war starts up again, and the big bad is after Harry – partly because Harry's the one the prophecy says can beat him, but mostly because Harry made him look like an idiot all those years ago. The big bad's come up with a way for him to live forever – don't worry, Harry's got that bit covered – but there's a problem with his army. Two years ago – I think, I'm not very good at that – oh, look, there's another mug."

Grabbing the coffee mug out of his hands, Rose sighed. "Keep focused please, Doctor."

He shrugged. "Fine. There was a bit of a fight, in the Ministry of Magic –"

"What's that, like the Ministry of Agriculture?" Rose interrupted. "And I found another one."

"Focusing, right?" the Doctor asked. "And yeah, I guess so, the memories were a bit fuzzy. He doesn't like to think about it. Anyway, big fight, but Harry, and a group of five teenagers were able to hold off the best this guy had to offer. Two years later, the army of the big bad attacks the Ministry itself – not like the time before, where they were after Harry and his buddies, they attacked the government itself – and it goes down in minutes. But _why_?"

Rose blinked, still trying to process all this. "He got help?"

The Doctor frowned. "Now there's an idea. But who would help _him_?"

"I – I dunno." She froze; this was a world like nothing they'd ever seen before, and she couldn't even fathom what could possibly be helping a man like that.

The Doctor nodded, pulling out two more mugs. "Right. So we're going to his base to find out who."

"Oh good," Rose muttered. "Run straight towards the biggest source of danger here."

He grinned at her, the daredevil one, ready to take on anything. "Yep! That's me!"

* * *

Locking the door of the TARDIS behind him, the Doctor turned around and grinned. "Right. So, here's the plan. Ah – we go attack him?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "You can't plan worth your life."

"And you're any better?"

Rose ducked her head, smiling. "Not really, no."

"Could – could I propose a new plan?" Harry asked.

The Doctor grinned and raised his eyebrows. "Go ahead."

Harry frowned. "So – what if, we – ah, Ron, Hermione, and I – went Horcrux hunting – ah, you know –?"

"Found it in your head, yeah," the Doctor replied.

Harry gulped. "Right, so, the three of us go Horcrux hunting, and you two go deal with the Death Eaters, okay?"

Rose frowned. "They're, like, the big bad's army, right?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yep."

"Big bad?" Harry asked. "You mean Voldemort, right? 'Cause we've got a bit of a problem, if you mean someone else."

The Doctor grinned. "Yeah, that one. Ah – Harry? Don't forget the one in your head. That'll be important."

"Doctor?" Rose tried, not entirely successfully, to keep the fear out of her voice. "We've already got a problem."

"What's that?" The Doctor spun, looking around. "Ah. Them."

The black-robed men had appeared far enough away that their arrival was silent, but they were advancing rapidly on the small group.

"Death Eaters," Hermione whispered. "How'd they find us?"

The Doctor shrugged. "The TARDIS is probably eliminating the aethermetric readings within about, oh, a thousandth of an astronomical unit or so."

Hermione blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that again?" She sounded confused; Rose didn't blame her. Even for the Doctor that made very little sense.

"Ah – she's broadcasting a null field for the nearest – er – ninety thousand miles, give or take a bit," the Doctor said, running a hand through his hair. "She does it any time we're in a hostile situation; you just don't notice, because only – ah – I use that frequency. And, you know," he waved a hand vaguely, jerking his head slightly, "the Daleks." Which was a classic Doctor avoidance-and-anxiety-driven tactic. They were edging around something he didn't want to talk about.

Rose poked him. "Doctor? The enemies?"

"Ah. Right then." The Doctor frowned, and ran a hand through his hair. "You lot. Leave. Go on, _shoo_!"

Rose sighed. "What, you're making them leave? What about us?"

The Doctor grinned. "They're leaving, because _they_ can't be hurt here, it'll mess up the story. _We_, on the other hand, are staying, because we _have_ to go find this big bad, and his minions are the best way to do that."

"This is new," Rose said. "Usually we run."

The Doctor scoffed. "Not _always_. Sometimes we surrender. Like now. And you lot – why haven't you gone yet?"

Hermione squeaked, and grabbed Harry and Ron. "Ah – we'll just go, then."

"Good," the Doctor said absently. "Toddle off, and we'll deal with these – whatever they are." He patted his pockets. "I've got – ah – sonic screwdriver, psychic paper – ah – we need anything else?"

"I hope not, 'cause we just ran out of time," Rose said. "Here they come."

There were seven of them, all robed in black, hoods pulled up over their heads, faces covered in silver masks.

"On my word!" Harry yelled.

The Doctor turned and looked at him. "Haven't you three gone yet?"

This was immediately followed by the Death Eaters shouting strange words, accompanied by bolts of light from their sticks.

"Fire!" Harry shouted.

Four of the Death Eaters immediately focused on the trio, and a fire-fight of bolts of light began. The remaining three turned on the Doctor and Rose.

"Doctor? Why isn't the TARDIS translating what they're speaking?" Rose gave him a look that said, quite clearly, _why haven't we surrendered yet_?

The Doctor frowned. "They're spells, words that call power to them and shape it into a given form. They don't have a meaning to translate."

A spell shrieked past Rose's head. She yelled and ducked. "Can we surrender now?"

"Nah, nah, just wait a moment, I'm on the edge of something…"

Rose glared up at him. She was crouching behind his legs, choosing that as the safest place in the battle. "Please?"

"Aha!" the Doctor yelled, a wild grin on his face. "I've got it!" Calming down, he shook his head despairingly. "Honestly, humans. A whole new universe for you lot to play in, with new rules, _magic _even, and all you can do is invent a new form of gun. I should replace them all with bananas." Looking around, he frowned. "Haven't you lot gone yet?"

"Harry!" Hermione yelled. "Grab my hand!" A loud _crack_ split the air, and the trio vanished.

The Doctor bent down. "Ew, that's disgusting." He lifted up a chunk of flesh, and licked it. "Human, male. Ronald or Harry at a guess. Must have gotten left behind."

Rose stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Why do you have to do that?"

He shrugged. "Oh! And, ah, we surrender." He smiled brightly and held up both hands.

Rose imitated him. "Feels odd not to be running," she muttered.

One of the black robed figures walked up to the Doctor and poked his stick in his face. "Where have the other three gone?" The others circled around them, not seeing the TARDIS.

"Haven't a clue," the Doctor said cheerily. "You're an intelligent one, aren't you, though? Didn't even think to put up an anti-Apparation ward."

"What's that?" Rose asked. The Doctor ignored her.

The stick was jabbed into the Doctor's chin. "Don't be cheeky! Right, we're capturing you and taking you to the Dark Lord. Maybe he can determine where you're from."

"Excellent!" The Doctor grinned. "Just what I wanted."

One of the dark-robed figures sighed. "You're an odd one."

"Shut up, Nott," said the one with his stick on the Doctor's cheek. "Dolohov, Rookwood. Pick one of the prisoners. I want them Apparated directly into a prison cell. The rest of you, we're headed back to the Dark Lord to give our report."

The other one scoffed. "Who put you in charge, Malfoy? Last I heard, you were in disgrace!"

"Shut _up_, Nott!"

* * *

**A/N: For those who are less obsessed than me, David Tennant is the Tenth Doctor, and played Barty Crouch Jr. for about five minutes, hence Harry's confusion. And yes, Voldemort is the one word in the multiverse the Doctor can't say.**


	3. Chapter 2

**WARNING: T-rating in effect for violence and (heavily) implied torture. Also, DW series 1 spoilers. If you do not know what Bad Wolf is, you probably shouldn't read this yet.**

**Sonic Screwdriver Setting 42: Have a new found attraction to Matt Smith after he broke the TARDIS and the sonic screwdriver, ran into a tree, dropped a glass of water, and went through about fifteen foods before finding one he liked - all in the first fifteen minutes of his screen time. On that note, still not mine.**

* * *

Apparating, Rose determined, was a truly horrific and unpleasant way to teleport, much worse than the TARDIS. She fell to her knees on a stone floor, retching. The Doctor, to her displeasure, didn't show any visible signs of discomfort.

"That wasn't bad," he said, looking around. "Ah. Just like he said. A prison cell. How lovely."

As a matter of fact, no, it was not lovely. The cell was barely big enough to hold both of them, with their captor – either Dolohov or Rookwood – on the outside. Two walls were bare stone, the other two metal bars, one opening into a corridor, one providing a view of the neighbouring cell, currently unoccupied. There was mould dripping down the walls, and the corridor was only partially illuminated by a torch.

Their captor spat at them, and then strolled off silently.

"He's talkative," the Doctor said dryly. "Now, let's see about getting out of here, shall we?"

Rose leaned back against the wall. "Hang on, you said you were going to explain about spells and wands and things."

"Now?"

"When better?"

The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and began fiddling with it. "Right. Ah – some people can use magic – it's like general energy, but they can focus it in ways that aren't even _conceivable_ at home. Some people can't. People who can use magic are called wizards and witches. People who can't are called Muggles. Most people who use magic have parents who also can use magic. They're called purebloods. If neither parent can use magic they're Muggle-borns, for obvious reasons. One each, called halfbloods."

"Spent a lot of time coming up with those names, didn't they?" Rose laughed.

The Doctor grinned and nodded. "The big bad is attacking based on those bloodlines, on whose parents can or cannot use magic. Now, if you use magic, you focus it through a stick called a wand. The things that come out of the wand are called spells. Aha!" The door clanged open.

"What took so long?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Magic?" They both laughed. "Right then, let's go find this Mouldy-shorts, shall we?" At Rose's stare, he grinned. "What? I can't pronounce his name, and I'm not about to go calling him 'the big bad' all the time. Mouldy-shorts works fine."

Rose sighed. "Honestly, it's not that hard. _Vol_-de-mor."

"But I _like_ Mouldy-shorts. Right. Let's go." Adjusting his trench-coat, the Doctor stepped out of the cell. "Ah. Good. No alarums. I don't like alarums."

Following him out, Rose smiled. "Do you know where we're going?"

The Doctor grinned. "No_-pe_!"

"Oh good. For a moment I thought you actually knew what you were doing for once," Rose griped.

His grin grew wider. "Eh. We just find a set of stairs and go up until we hit windows. Then we find a room with a great big chair in it. Mouldy-shorts will probably be there."

"And if we get found first?"

He snorted. "Run like mad!"

The corridors continued being dark and rather filthy. They rounded several corners, coming across long lines of empty cells. It was a stereotypical dungeon – dark, damp, and cramped, with skittering things just out of eyesight, and flickering torches.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no!" The Doctor fell to his knees beside one of the cells. "No, no, no! Right! We're going to stop this. Right now!"

Rose knew that look – that was the warning look, the one that would have sent the enemy running in terror if there had been an enemy. It was the _no more chances_ look, that said all the gloves were coming off now. Rose knelt beside him. "Oh, god. What's happened to him?"

The man inside was bruised and bleeding. One eye was missing, replaced by a socket full of yellowed pus. His left arm was broken, and he held it gingerly across his chest. He was naked from the waist up, revealing a torso covered in scars and tattoos.

"This is what he does to his servants," the Doctor hissed, beyond upset. "See that? On his left arm? That tattoo is the mark of the Death Eaters. And that, if Harry's memories are correct, is Rodolpus Lestrange, one of Mouldy-shorts' foremost supporters, and married to his _most_ loyal follower."

Rose gagged. "Why?"

The Doctor shook his head, face taut. "He is insane. Not even Daleks kill their own." He grimaced. "We need to stop this. _Now_! Ah – ah – ah." He swung back and forth between the door to the cell and the long corridor.

Swallowing hard, Rose said, knowing the dilemma he was going through, "We're not on a time limit, are we? Go ahead."

He made eye contact for just a second, just long enough to tell her _thank you_, and then the sonic screwdriver came out again. "Setting – hang on a second there, we're going to help you – setting, ah, let's try setting 85." There was a distinct lack of anything happening. "That – that wasn't supposed to happen. Ah – ah, 85D." The sonic screwdriver _whirred_ unhappily but the cell door clanked open.

"Is – is it safe?" Rose asked, still kneeling.

The Doctor shrugged. "Enough. Now, let's have a look at you." He entered the cell, tucking the screwdriver back into a pocket.

The man inside tilted his head up, revealing a metal collar connected to the wall by six links of chain. "I … haven't seen… you before," he croaked. "New recruit?"

"Of Mouldy-shorts? Nah. I'm here to rescue you." The Doctor crouched down, patting the pockets of his trench coat. "Rose, did we bring those nanogenes along?"

She frowned. "Nanogenes? Like the ones with the gas-mask zombies?"

He nodded, pointing the screwdriver at the metal collar. "I – there we go!" he shouted as the collar popped open, "I kept a sample, attuned to you guys – ah, humans – that's why you haven't – in all our adventures, you haven't been hurt. But – ah. Nope." He reached out his hands, dropping the screwdriver, and helped the man to lie down.

"Who – who are you?" The man looked more comfortable lying down, but not by much.

Grinning broadly, the Doctor picked up the screwdriver again. "I'm the Doctor! Now, it'll hurt a bit, but I need to see your left arm."

The man closed his eyes, and Rose could see the muscles bulging in his neck. "Right." He slowly stretched out his arm, allowing the Doctor to hold onto his hand.

"Okay," the Doctor sighed, "so, I'm going to do two things, I hope. The first, which I know I can do, is convince your body to repel nonorganic matter. Like that tattoo on your arm. _Particularly _that tattoo."

Teeth clenched, the man looked at the Doctor. "I'll be free?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes."

"Do it."

The Doctor waved the screwdriver up and down the man's chest. Blue flashes lit the cell erratically. "There we go!" The Doctor grinned – a real one – as the man began to sweat ink. Black droplets emerged from his skin and rolled away, leaving clear skin behind. The skull-and-snake on his arm didn't seem to _want_ to leave, if that made any sense applied to an ink drawing. But repeated application of the sonic screwdriver drove that one out too, along with two shards of metal from his upper thigh and a false tooth. The Doctor picked this last up. "You'll need to get that replaced."

The man grunted. "It's worth it." Gasping in another breath, he said, "My name's Rodolphus Lestrange… If you ever need anything… I owe you."

The Doctor blinked. "Right, and the second thing – sometimes I can get this to fix people. Sometimes I can't. But we're going to try anyway – well, I'm going to try, and Rose is going to stand there and scream if someone comes – and see if this works." It took a moment of fiddling with the screwdriver, but the cell was quickly lit up again.

Rose, not particularly interested, kept an eye out for movement. She was almost dozing off when an ear-splitting _howl_ jolted her off the wall, accompanied by the Doctor's voice cursing in something the TARDIS wouldn't translate.

Switching back into English, the Doctor leaped back from the body. "I'm sorry! I'm _so_ sorry! That wasn't supposed to happen – Rose! I need you to hold him down while I set the arm."

She blinked, momentarily stunned. "You know how to do that?"

He shrugged. "Close enough. Now – sit on him, will you?"

Rose just gaped for another minute before shaking her head and smiling. "No one will believe me at home. _No one_." She smiled at the man on the ground. "I'm Rose Tyler. And – um, I've never done this before, so let me know if something hurts."

The man half-smiled back, displaying a fair bit of missing teeth. "Love, everything hurts now. Do what you can."

She nodded. "Right. Um – Okay. Doctor, where did you want me?"

"Er, just hold him down, I think. I haven't actually done this before." The Doctor was puttering with the screwdriver, waving it over the man's arm, and glaring at it when it didn't work.

The actual healing/surgery, when they got down to it, was strangely pedantic. Rose helped hold the man still, while the Doctor first twisted the arm, and then jabbed the sonic screwdriver at it, releasing a _lot_ of blue light and a high pitched _scriiing_ noise. "Now Rose, if you'll just move a bit, I can apply this extra energy to the rest of him and see if we can't make some progress."

Rose moved, the energy was applied, and most of the scars vanished, along with all of the blood and pus in the man's eye-socket.

"One last thing," the Doctor added. "Ah, I wouldn't recommend letting anyone with an electricity scanner near your head, but for all other purposes, this should work well enough. Unless, of course, you would prefer an eye patch. But since with a small battery you can remove that new eye and wear an eye patch anyway – I'm talking too much again, aren't I?" This last directed at Rose. At her nod, he smiled ruefully. The sonic screwdriver was placed on the edge of the empty socket, flashing and whirring.

The new eyeball didn't so much form as appear, one moment solidly _there_ where there had been nothing before.

"It _looks _the same as his other one," Rose pointed out.

The Doctor shrugged. "And for all intents and purposes – well, most of them, anyways – it _is_ the same. It's just giving off slightly more electricity than the other one." He looked down at the man. "Ah – did you want to help us?"

The man stretched out, blinking rapidly as if unable to believe that he had two eyes again. "Help you do what?"

There was a moment's pause as the Doctor quite plainly ran through a list of acceptable responses. "Save the world? Nah, we're not saving the _whole_ thing," he muttered, "take over the world? Not my gig. Kill our opponents? _Definitely_ not my gig. Ah – your master or whatever you call him is being aided by aliens. I'm here to get rid of them. Any way that you could help would be lovely." He smiled – the don't-kick-the-puppy variation.

The man – Rodolphus, Rose sternly reminded herself – shot back a vicious grin. "Excellent. So, Doctor, do you have any idea where my wand is?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Not at all. Not fond of wands, anyway. Too much like guns." He examined the sonic screwdriver, which was wearily flashing blue and smoking slightly. Making a face, he shoved it back in a pocket. "On the other hand, we will need some way to get through doors now."

"Psychic paper," Rose pointed out.

"Only works if there's someone on our side of the door," the Doctor responded. Shrugging again, he said, "If we come across one, you're welcome to use it; if we don't, we'll make do anyway."

Rodolphus nodded. "That's alright, sir, I can get along just fine without it."

The Doctor scrunched up his nose. "Just the Doctor, please. Anything else gives me headaches."

"Doctor? Bit of a funny name, innit? Still, better than the one upstairs." Rodolphus shrugged. "I owe you, Doctor. Whatever you want, I'll do."

The Doctor cocked his head. "Bit of a big promise to make for someone you just met, isn't it? Anyway, off we go. Rodolphus – where do you people come _up_ with these names? – you know where Mouldy-shorts is going to be, right?" At his nod, the Doctor grinned. "Lead the way, then."

Rodolphus nodded shortly. "This way." He began a slow run down the corridor, stretching unused muscles.

The Doctor smirked at Rose. Trench-coat flapping, he took off after Rodolphus.

"Oh good. More running." Rose followed him, doing her best to keep up.

* * *

The doors, of course, were locked. The Doctor palmed his sonic screwdriver regretfully. "Right then," he said, pulling out the psychic paper. "Don't say anything unless I tell you to. We've got to finish this." Grinning broadly, he knocked on the doors.

They were quickly opened by a blond with a pointed face. "And who might you be?"

The Doctor shoved the psychic paper at him. "Got that? Oh, and we could use your wand."

The blond stared at the paper and then back up at the Doctor. "Ah, my lord vampire, my apologies for not recognizing you immediately," he said smoothly to a blank-faced Doctor who was slowly mouthing the words _my lord vampire_ over and over again.

Pulling himself back together, the Doctor said disapprovingly, "Your wand, if you would."

The blond swallowed, but pulled out a wand from his robes and handed it to the Doctor.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "If you would open the doors enough for us to enter…"

Gulping, the blond backed up. "My _sincere_ apologies to my lord vampire. Would you like an announcement?"

"Ah, no, no, no. I can announce myself, thank you," the Doctor said, still slightly stunned. "Now if you would –?" He waved his hands at the blond.

Bowing deeply, the blond said, "Quite right, my lord vampire." Backing out of the way, he swung the doors open.

The Doctor cast a glance at Rose, who nodded. Giving her his trademark grin, he tossed the wand to Rodolphus, shoved his hands in his pockets, and strolled into the room.

"Wait, what are you doing with my wand?" the blond screeched.

The Doctor ignored him, shoving the man out of his way. Rose followed, behind and slightly to the right. Rodolphus was to the left. "You! Mouldy-shorts!"

"_How dare you!_"

The Doctor had been right: there was a throne, which at one point had been a wingback chair, and in it was something which at one point had been a man. He was bald and hideously pale, with blood red eyes and a conspicuously missing nose.

"That's him?" Rose whispered. "That _thing_ – that's the thing everyone's so afraid of?"

The Doctor grinned fiercely, not so much a human grin as a wolf. "Yep. Mouldy-shorts! Come down here and talk to me!"

Voldemort stood, coming down off the dais. "How _dare_ you!" he repeated, quieter.

"That's intelligent," the Doctor pointed out. "Who are you allied with?"

The Dark Lord paused. "I do not make _alliess_! I make _vassalss_!"

The Doctor grinned again. "I've heard that before, now, where have I heard that before…" He tapped his fingers on his chin. "Ah! You're not allied with the Daleks, are you?" The grin grew. This one meant _I found the hole in your argument and I win._

This time Voldemort didn't just pause, he actually jerked backwards. "Everybody out!" There was a distinct lack of a response. "I mean it!"

"Honestly," the Doctor muttered, still smirking, "if you have to say that…"

"_Everybody out!_" Voldemort bellowed. "Except for these two prisonerss, I want everybody out!" One of the moving bodies paused. "_Luciuss_, do you really doubt my ability to deal with _two _prisonerss? Only two? Iss that really a wisse move?"

The black-cloaked Death Eaters swept out of the room, leaving only the Doctor and Rose, with Rodolphus behind them, standing in front of Voldemort. "Where did you hear about the Dalekss?" the Dark Lord hissed.

The Doctor's eyebrows snapped up. "You're rather disturbingly snake-like. It's not particularly attractive."

"Ansswer the quesstion!" Voldemort bellowed, an effect ruined by his distinctive hiss.

The Doctor began pacing. "I don't like answering questions. I much prefer asking them. So, you _are_ allied with the Daleks. Why?"

Anger wouldn't display properly on a face without a nose. Every emotion just looked disturbingly upset. "You will not question _me_!"

"See, Rose, insane. I told you," the Doctor muttered. In his regular voice, he said, "Yes, I think I will. See, if there's anything I'm good at, it's talking. And since questioning is part of talking, I think I'll keep right on doing it. Daleks. Why? Actually, scratch that. I have no doubts about why _you_ would ally with _them_, that much is obvious, but why would _they_ ally with _you_? They've never done that before."

Voldemort sneered; that came through just fine. "And what would a Muggle like you know about them?"

The Doctor smirked. "Who says I'm a Muggle?" He pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. It was still smoking faintly, but showed no signs of actually catching on fire any more. The Doctor prodded it, coaxing a flash out of the end.

_That_ shocked Voldemort for a moment. "That's not a wand," he said hesitantly.

"Nope!" The Doctor beamed. "Sonic screwdriver. But I think _you_ could do with questioning some of your assumptions. _Anyway_," he ran the screwdriver up and down Voldemort's body, watching the pattern of flashes and beeps – and the occasional disgruntled _scrii_, "no alien technology on you, although your wand plays merry hell with my screwdriver. What _are_ those Daleks up to?" he said in exasperation.

Voldemort's eyes flashed in fury. "How _dare_ you, Muggle!"

The Doctor shrugged. "Oh good, back to this again. Now." He swung the screwdriver around, scanning the room. "Where could they be hiding? They're not turning up on here."

"You know," Rose drawled, "usually we have problems getting _away_ from Daleks, not finding the stupid things."

He grinned. "Oi! Mouldy-shorts!"

Voldemort's lips disappeared into a thin line. "Stop calling me that!"

"Send a message to your masters," the Doctor said, still grinning, although it had changed again from amused to fierce, "tell them that the Oncoming Storm is here, along with Bad Wolf, and we want to talk."

Rose frowned. "Really? You pulled_ that_ out again? I thought we were done with that."

The Doctor looked at her. "What are _you_ whinging about? At least Bad Wolf is original. 'The Oncoming Storm,'" he mocked, "It just sounds so – so - so _trite_." He returned his attention to Voldemort. "What are you waiting for? Go on, tell them!"

"They're not my masters!" Voldemort screamed. "I am theirs!"

The Doctor gave him a stern look. "Like _hell _you are. Now go on – shoo!"

Voldemort stared at him blankly. "You give orders to _me?"_

"Oh, we're back on this again. Honestly, can we move on now? Just go tell them!" The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, beginning to pace.

"_DOC-tor."_

There were four Daleks, three pale brown, and one black. It was this latter one that was speaking, accompanied by the flashes from its dome. They'd entered through a pair of doors that were hidden down a dark corridor behind the dais.

The Doctor swivelled his head to stare at them. "Good. You're here. Now what are you _doing _here?" He paused. "Ergh. That didn't sound right. Honestly, I can parse sentences better than that normally, I'm just not used to finding Daleks in a new universe. Among other problems," he added.

"_We found a new WOR-ld. There are no Time Lords here for us to com-PETE with. This man is al-MOST a DAL-ek. He will help us to con-QUER this WOR-ld."_ The foremost Dalek hovered forward to rest slightly in front of the dais.

"That's it!" The Doctor danced around, hands clenched in his hair. "You're not allied with him, that wouldn't make any sense, you never ally with anyone, not even when that would be the smart thing to do. You're _controlling_ him, you've done that before."

"_A-FERM-a-tive."_

Voldemort looked shocked. "We had an agreement! We were equals! We – we…" He dissolved into incoherent sputtering and stared at the Dalek.

"_NEG-a-tive. DAL-eks are su-PER-i-or be-I-ngs. DAL-eks are not E-qual to other be-I-ngs."_

Fortunately for all involved, Voldemort remained in a state of incoherency, leaving the Doctor to speak up. "Yeah, but the point is, you're in the wrong world."

The eyestalk jerked up and down. _"So are you, DOC-tor."_

The Doctor gave the Dalek a glare. "I will leave when you do. None of us are supposed to be here, but you are the ones who started it."

"_That is not a mat-URE STATE-ment."_

"And since when have _you_ lot been the mature ones?" the Doctor snapped. "Look – you and yours pop back home and then I'll follow, and then we can have our great big smash up like normal. But not here. Not on this world." His eyes flashed.

"_How do we know that you will keep your PROM-ise?"_

The Doctor gave it a stern glare. "Because I am the _Doctor_. Why would I not?"

"_We do not keep our PROM-ises."_

The Doctor shrugged, projecting an air of nonchalance. "You are Dalek."

"_Yes! We are DAL-ek! We will con-QUER!"_

"Yes, I got that," the Doctor said, slightly exasperated. "But can't you do it at home? Here, you're just tearing _both_ worlds apart."

"_A-FERM-a-tive."_

The Doctor frowned. "To which?"

"_We are tear-ING both WOR-lds a-PART."_

This actually stunned the Doctor. "Yes, but – but that doesn't make any sense! Why would you _do _that? Tear apart both worlds, and you destroy yourselves as well!"

"_NEG-a-tive."_

Confusion was an expression that fit well on the Doctor's face, yet didn't seem to be there very often. Rose saw it now. "Wait – what. But – but it doesn't _work_ that way! It just doesn't! What are you going to do? Teleport away? Just because the collision's _centred_ on Earth doesn't mean that's the only planet that'll be destroyed. There's a reason it's two _universes_ colliding. It doesn't matter _where_ you go, or _when_, you'll still all die!"

"_Con-FU-sion." _The eyestalk jerked up and down frantically.

"You see?" the Doctor burst out. "It won't work! Now just – go back home, and I'll go back, and we can have our smash-up as usual."

"_NEG-a-tive,"_ the Dalek said. _"You will RE-turn and SE-al the un-I-vers-es. We will stay here and con-QUER!"_

Voldemort saw fit to reinsert himself into the discussion at this point. Drawing his wand, he screamed, "_Crucio!_" The wand pointed directly at the Doctor.


	4. Chapter 3

**Sonic Screwdriver Setting 42: It occurred to me this morning that Barty Crouch Jr. spends a lot of time wearing a trench coat. Who else do we know who does that...**

* * *

Voldemort saw fit to reinsert himself into the discussion at this point. Drawing his wand, he screamed, "_Crucio!_" The wand pointed directly at the Doctor.

There was a distinct lack of anything happening.

The Doctor grinned, turning to Rodolphus. "That was interesting. Go on, cast something – ah – preferably non-damaging, if you would. If it was just Mouldy-shorts being stupid, I don't want to find myself without an arm, or some other inconvenience like that."

Rodolphus blinked. "Yes – ah – yes, Doctor. _Wingardium levisoa!_" Once again there was a lack of noticeable change.

"That's odd," the Doctor said, "was that supposed to do something?"

Nodding, Rodolphus lowered his wand. "Yes, Doctor. It's a levitation charm."

The Doctor blinked. "Ah. So – magic doesn't work on me. That's fascinating. Right –well, allons-y! You lot," he waved at the Daleks, "need to leave, and you," he waved at Voldemort, "need to loosen up a bit and let Harry kill you."

"I'm sure he appreciates that, thanks Doctor," Rose muttered.

The Doctor grinned. "Right, so – anything else before we all leave?"

"_Ex-TER-min-ate!"_

The Doctor turned on the Daleks. "Have I mentioned that you're all idiots?"

"_We will not leave!"_

"See - idiots?" the Doctor told Rose. "Right, so you won't leave, and I can't just let you have a whole universe to take over, which rather limits our options." He turned around. "Ah – Rodolphus, anybody in the area that would support you against Mouldy-shorts over there?"

Rodolphus nodded shortly.

"Right, so, off you go. We'll probably need back-up soon." The Doctor turned his attention back to the Dalek as Rodolphus left the room. "And you – you'll blow your cover if you fire too soon. You'll have problems out your eyestalks if you begin attacking – this world hasn't had first contact yet."

"_We do not fear HU-mans. Ex-TER-min-ate!"_

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Idiots." He turned to Voldemort. "You get that, Mouldy-shorts? Those allies you got are planning to shoot you in your back the instant they have enough of a foot – er, base-hold."

Voldemort's eyes flashed a deeper red. "_Don't _call me that!" Calming down, he said, "You do, however, have a point. Perhapss I could ally with you againsst the monsstorss."

Rose frowned, turning to the Doctor. "Doctor! You can't – really?" She didn't want to believe it – she _couldn't _believe it – there was no way that the Doctor would ally with one monster against another. She hoped.

The Doctor smiled at her, but only slightly. "Yeah – no, Mouldy-shorts, not happening. I _don't_ join forces with murderers."

"_Takes one to know one," _the Dalek commented.

"Shut up, you piece of scrap metal," the Doctor spat, furious. "_I_ don't turn on my own soldiers, like this one does. Nor do I commit genocide."

Voldemort glared at him. "The Lestrange brothers betrayed me!"

"Congrat's, Doctor," Rose muttered. "You've now managed to piss off _both_ of the enemies in the room."

The Doctor grinned at her. "Yes, but I'm about to receive back up, and they're not. Well, the Daleks aren't. Well, I hope not."

"_There are four DAL-eks here. ON-ly four are NEE-ded to con-QUER the WOR-ld."_

"Yes, thanks," the Doctor said absently. "So at least we don't need to worry about more Daleks."

Rodolphus came into the room, flanked by five or six other black-robed Death Eaters. A separate group came behind them, looking distinctly more hostile. "These ones are with us, Doctor," Rodolphus said, "the others, well…" he looked disgruntled.

The Doctor nodded, pulling on his hair again. "Magic doesn't work on me… magic doesn't work on me… why not? What is it about _me_?"

"You're a Time Lord?" Rose asked.

He frowned. "That's a possibility. Of course, I'm also from a different dimension. So, Rose – does magic work on you? Rodolphus, give it a try."

Rodolphus nodded. "Yes – yes, Doctor. _Wingardium leviosa!_"

Looking down, Rose said, "I think that rules out the possibility that it's because you're a Time Lord."

The Doctor grinned – the daredevil one. "Then we might have a chance."

"_Kill them!" _Voldemort screamed, pointing at the new cluster – the Doctor, Rose, Rodolphus, and the men he'd recruited.

The Daleks whirred. _"Ex-TER-min-ate! Ex-TER-min-ate! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"_

"Right – ah – that simplifies things, yes," the Doctor said, running a hand through his hair. "Rodolphus, you and – ah – whatever those are – men with you – focus on Mouldy-shorts and the other black robes. Rose and I'll go after the Daleks. Okay? Right everyone, move it!"

As Rodolphus began setting up a flurry of attacks on the other group, the Doctor ran toward the lead Dalek. "Why are there only four of you? Why? That's new, usually there are more."

"_You ex-TER-min-ate-ed us. We are the ON-ly ones left."_

The Doctor blinked. "Yes, well there is that," he said quietly. "Certain you won't just leave?"

"_Ex-TER-min-ate!"_ For the first time, this was accompanied by a surge of deadly light.

The Doctor dodged it easily. "You lot have got really shoddy aim, don't you. Always have, always will. I hope." He shook his head. "Right. Rose, got any brilliant ideas?"

Rose ducked a bolt of light, unclear whether it came from Dalek or wizard. "No, but you'd better come up with something fast, Doctor!"

"Right. Ah – ah – ah – ah!" The Doctor danced around, hands in his hair. "Plan? Ah – ah – ah, plan! Drat it, Rose! I'm fresh out of brilliant plans for dealing with _Daleks!_ Your turn, Bad Wolf!"

Rose made a _very_ nasty sign with one hand, dodging another burst of light.

Without warning, Rodolphus came barrelling over. "Look out, Doctor! _Avada kedavra!_" The green jet of light bounced harmlessly off the Dalek while the counterattack completely missed the Doctor, continuing on to hit the ceiling.

"Thanks for that!" The Doctor leaned against the wall, frowning. "Now what am I going to do?" He rubbed the back of his neck pensively, eyebrows drawn down in thought.

Rose stood in the middle of the narrow corridor, glaring at the Doctor. "Come up with something!"

The Dalek's eyestalk focused first on Rose, and then on the ceiling. It fired again.

"Out of the way!" Rodolphus bellowed, shoving his way past the Doctor. "_Protego!"_A blue sphere formed around Rose.

The Doctor's eyes flicked between Rose, the Dalek, and the ceiling. "Rodolphus, can that shield of yours hold off a tonne of rock?" he asked, suddenly alert.

Rodolphus frowned. "No, Doctor. No, it can't." He stared at the Doctor, clearly perplexed.

"Not too bright, are you?" the Doctor said, face urgent. "Rose! Move! Now!"

Rose stared at him. "It's not shooting at me, honest! I think I'm safe where I am!"

The Dalek fired two shots in quick succession. The ceiling cracked ominously.

"_Rose!_"

A third shot shattered the stone ceiling. Rodolphus, on the edge of the corridor, missed the worst of it. He fell against the wall, a bruise already forming on his cheek. Rose was in the centre.

"_NO!_" The Doctor's voice broke and jumped several octaves. He lunged at the pile of rubble settling in the middle of the corridor. Always his emotions were displayed on his face, a visual display of how he would react. Not now. Now his face was shut down, absolutely blank, except – for those who knew him well – for terror and panic. "_ROSE!_" Kneeling on the edge of the pile, he put his head in his hands, trying to hold back the tears he could _not_ let come. "Not again," he whispered.

Rodolphus flinched. "Milord Doctor?" At no reaction from the Doctor, he spun on the Dalek. "_Reducto!_"

The spell hit. The Dalek's metal casing cracked and fell apart, revealing a squid-like body inside. Tentacles writhed in terror.

Shocked out of his grief, the Doctor looked up, frowning. "Did I know you could do that?" He paused and frowned at Rodolphus. "Why didn't I know you could do that?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Didn't work on me … worked on the Daleks… didn't work on me, a living thing… worked on the Daleks, metal structure…" He looked down at the rubble. One foot was just visible. Face set and hard, he said coldly, "Do it again. Hit it on the casing, don't aim at the body. Take down all of them!"

Rodolphus nodded. "_Reducto!"_

The casing around the lead Dalek exploded into a million shards.

"_Reducto!_"

The casing of the second Dalek broke open.

"_Reducto!_"

And it too split into shards, leaving two Daleks resting on motionless pedestals.

The Doctor grinned viciously. "_Fantastic!_ Does anyone have a knife?" His eyes glittered darkly.

Rodolphus gave him an odd look. "No, milord Doctor. Would you like – should I –"

"What? No, no, keep blowing the stupid things up." He looked down at the pile of rubble. "I promised to keep you safe," he whispered, "and now look what's happened."

"_Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!_" Rodolphus continued methodically destroying the Dalek's casings.

The Doctor spun and grabbed a shard of rock from the pile, whirling back to face the Daleks, absolutely cold and utterly furious. "Look, you murdering bastard! Look at that! You _killed _her!" He stabbed the rock at the lead Dalek. "Give me one reason – one _good_ reason – for me not to return the favour," he said flatly.

The Dalek looked at him. _"She is not dead. She is still a-LIVE."_

Shocked out of his fury, the Doctor blinked. "She – she –" Masking himself again, he glared steadily down at the Dalek, face furious. "Are you afraid of me?"

The Dalek recoiled, shrinking back. _"Yes,"_ it whispered doubtfully.

"Good!" the Doctor spat, eyes blazing. "For _that_, for your fear and her life, I will give you this one chance – _leave_ now. _LEAVE_ this place and do not come back!"

"_We_._"_ The Dalek's voice cut off and it trembled. _"We go, DOC-tor."_

The Doctor locked eyes with the Dalek. "This is your _last_ chance. This the _last_ time I will be merciful. Am I understood?"

The Dalek blinked. _"Yes DOC-tor. DAL-eks!"_ The four platforms, all now completely without protection, swivelled in towards each other. There was a pause filled with flashing lights and twitching tentacles. With a searing flash, all four vanished.

"Rodolphus!" the Doctor said in a voice scarcely above a whisper, yet all the more commanding for that. "That levitation spell – use it on that rock pile."

Rodolphus threw up a shield and turned to face the Doctor. "Bit busy now – is it necessary?"

The Doctor ran forward, every inch of his terror and pain and horror and grief written starkly on his face. "_Do it_, Rodolphus! Do it – and get us back to my TARDIS – and your debt will be paid."

Rodolphus threw a glance back. "I'm in the middle of a battle! How am I –?"

The Doctor stalked up to Rodolphus, getting right in his face. "It would be so _easy_ right now to end the world. So, so easy to remove you from the time stream. _Forever_. It would take so little. So very, _very_ little. Do you understand, Mr Lestrange?"

Rodolphus noticeably paled. "Y-yes, milord Doctor. _Wingardium leviosa!_"

The rock pile shifted. "D-doctor?" The voice was unbearably weak, but it caught the Doctor's attention immediately.

"_Rose!_" The Doctor fell to his knees again, flooded with hope. "I'm here, Rose, never worry, I'm right here."

It seemed to take forever for the rocks to move enough for any of Rose to become visible. Her face was bruised, with a long scratch above one eyebrow. "I-I think I'll n-need those n-n-nano…" She breathed quietly for a moment. "N-nanogenes, Doctor."

The Doctor brushed her head gently. "Rose, Rose, Rose, I – I – you're hurt."

She smiled. "I-I know what… what you mean, Doctor." Closing her eyes, she panted.

"Hurry up, Rodolphus!" the Doctor shouted. Resting his hand on her forehead, he whispered, "You have a fever."

Rose laughed silently. "I didn't think – think you were a doctor – a _real_ doctor."

The Doctor smiled. "You can't be hurt that badly if you're making stupid jokes again."

She smiled. "I – _ah_ – it hurts," she whispered.

"Then don't talk," he said, standing. "Just – just hold still, alright, we're headed back to the TARDIS right now." The Doctor returned his attention to Rodolphus, who had just finished levitating the rocks off Rose's broken body. "Now – Apparate us back to the TARDIS. We're done here."

Rodolphus looked scared for the first time. "What – what about _me_? I – I disobeyed the Dark Lord. I _cursed_ him! What am I going to do?"

The Doctor stood to his full height and looked down at the Death Eater. "I don't care. I _know_ some of the things you did during the war – ah, wars. As far as I'm concerned, you ran out of chances a long time ago. I don't really care what you do, so long as it doesn't involve me or mine." He looked down at Rose, then back up again. "Come here, Rodolphus."

Hesitating slightly, Rodolphus walked back to the Doctor, automatically deflecting a curse sent down the corridor.

"I'm going to give you the coordinates of the TARDIS," the Doctor said, reaching his hands out for Rodolphus' head. "Then you're gonna Apparate us there, then I don't really care what you do. Are we clear?"

Rodolphus bowed. "Yes, milord Doctor."

The Doctor grabbed Rodolphus' head, roughly shoving out the information. Suddenly he pulled back, frowning. "Wait a minute." He pulled out the sonic screwdriver, fiddling with the settings, and pointed it at the centre of the room. "Nothing fatal, just – ah – disruptive. He won't be able to use this building for a while. If ever." Flipping the switch, he smirked as the sonic beam began collapsing the ceiling – never over anyone, but all across the room – and eventually, the floor as well.

"I – I didn't know you could do that," Rose whispered.

The Doctor grinned, a savage one. "Yep! _Now_, Rodolphus!"

Rodolphus grabbed the Doctor's hand and Rose's shoulder. Twisting slightly, he Disapparated.

* * *

Rodolphus was gone. To where, the Doctor neither knew nor cared. Rose was lying next to the control banks, breathing in and out regularly, clouds of golden nanogenes hovering around her. The TARDIS – after the prerequisite banging of machinery – was in orbit around a brown dwarf – i.e., in no danger whatsoever, for once.

Which left the Doctor. As somehow, it always did, him alone, standing at the controls of the TARDIS, alternately swearing in a wide variety of languages at the machinery and staring blankly at Rose, who had collapsed into unconsciousness during the Apparation and had not awoken since. It had occurred to him, at one point, to sleep, but that had been dismissed when he considered the possibility of Rose waking up while he was unconscious. So he repaired various problems inside the TARDIS console, finding things to do while he waited.

It took forever, or so he thought. But since any time span longer than five minutes where he was not attacking something, defending something, or running away constituted forever for him, that didn't mean much.

All it meant is that when Rose finally, _finally_ sat up, coughing slightly but otherwise fit, he was controlled enough to smile at her, and say, "Where to next?"


End file.
